Chapter 1: So You Want to be a Lifter?
Derek had been working out at this gym for nearly two years. It wasn't one of those big, fancy corporate places; it had a more personal, homey feel. The space was old-school, equipped for men like him—men serious about building muscle.
A glass wall stretched across the front, from floor to ceiling, allowing sunlight to flood the entrance. The rest of the gym had a darker, more intense vibe, lit by scattered fluorescent lights. The air was always charged with high-energy music, sweat, and testosterone. Though women weren't banned, they quickly realized this wasn't their scene.
The gym's owner, Liam Wrenworth, was a three-time bodybuilding champion. After retiring, he built this place to keep in shape while creating a mecca for other serious lifters. While some guys came in intimidated, overwhelmed by men like Derek—massive and imposing—they quickly learned that, unlike other Judgement Free Zones, this was not a place where judgment in any form was passed; there were no lunk alarms here. The culture Liam fostered was one of support. The bigger guys didn't shame the beginners; they guided them, corrected their form, and made sure they felt welcome. Questions weren't stupid here.
Derek remembered when he first joined. He wasn't new to working out, but his form needed work. Some of the bigger guys took him under their wing. Now, as he stood in front of the mirror, he admired the muscular hunk staring back. Those men had helped him become what he was today.
After wrapping up his two-hour workout, Derek headed to the locker room, grabbed his gym bag, and made a quick stop at the front desk to pick up a protein shake for the ride home.
Liam was working the front desk, and as Derek approached, they exchanged their usual friendly banter.
"Another brutal session, huh?" Liam smirked, sliding the protein shake across the counter.
"You know it," Derek replied, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Gotta keep up with you."
Liam chuckled. "Yeah, right. I saw you benching earlier—still putting the rest of us to shame."
Just as Derek turned to leave, Liam nodded toward the window. "Hey, check it out," he said with a grin. "Looks like a future lifter out there."
Derek glanced over to see a small boy standing outside, wide-eyed as he peered through the window, watching the gym in awe. Derek smiled, remembering how he used to be that same boy, mesmerized by the men lifting weights at a local gym.
"Yeah," Derek said, still smiling. "I know that look."
"Maybe one day you'll be training him too," Liam joked, giving Derek a playful nudge.
"We'll see," Derek replied with a chuckle, heading for the door.
When Derek stepped outside, the sudden movement startled the boy. He jumped back from the window and started to scurry away. "Hey, kid!" Derek called out, his voice firm but not harsh. The boy froze in his tracks, as if caught doing something wrong.
"Come here," Derek said, his tone commanding but gentle.
The boy turned slowly, head hung low, and shuffled over until he stood in front of the towering six-foot-four man, barely reaching his waist at three and a half feet tall.
The boy was young and scrawny, with twig-like arms and legs that seemed too thin for his small frame. His brownish-blonde hair was tousled, giving him an unkempt yet endearing look, while his wide blue eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and nervousness. His boyish features—soft and round—made him undeniably cute, a hint of innocence still clinging to his face despite his shy demeanor.
"S-sorry, mister," the boy stammered, "I was just… umm… I was just…" He fumbled with his words, too nervous to finish his sentence.
Derek chuckled softly. "It's alright, kid. I was just like you once. You like muscles, don't you?"
The boy kicked at the ground, his face flushed with embarrassment, and gave a small nod.
Derek softened his voice. "Listen, it's all good. It's okay to look. You want to be a muscle dude when you grow up, too?"
"Y-yes, mister," the boy replied, still hesitant.
"That's good," Derek said with a reassuring smile. "Working out, staying fit, and treating your body right is important. Don't give up on that, alright?"
"Yes, sir," the boy said, his voice a little stronger now.
"I need to get home," Derek said. As the boy began to turn and walk away, Derek called out, "You need a ride?"
The boy froze, his whole body trembling. This man—this muscle god—was offering him a ride home. His mom's warnings and the school assemblies about stranger danger echoed in his head, but Derek didn't look like the creepy men they showed on TV. He seemed nice, and the boy's thoughts spun in confusion.
Hearing Derek step closer, the boy tensed. "Hey, kid, it's just a ride home, I promise. I have no ill intentions."
The boy turned back, looking up at him curiously. "What's an ill in… intention, mister?"
Derek chuckled softly at his innocence. "It means bad things. I'm not planning on doing anything bad. It's just a ride, I promise."
The boy kicked at the ground, hesitating for a moment. "If it's just a ride… okay."
"Alright then, follow me," Derek said with a reassuring smile.
The boy trailed behind the giant of a man as they walked along the row of parked cars and trucks. When they reached Derek's black Jeep Wrangler, Ethan's eyes widened in amazement. The Jeep was massive, lifted high off the ground with oversized tires that made it look like something out of a movie. He had never seen anything like it.
"Whoa…" Ethan whispered, staring up at the vehicle. It looked like a superhero's car, and in that moment, Derek seemed even larger than life.
Derek noticed the boy's awe and grinned. "Pretty cool, huh?"
Ethan nodded quickly, unable to hide his excitement. "Yeah… it's awesome!"
"What's your name, kid?" Derek asked, helping the boy climb into the passenger seat, which felt like scaling a mountain for Ethan.
Looking into Derek's deep blue eyes, the boy responded, "Ethan, mister."
"Well, Ethan, I'm Derek," he said with a smile, hoping to ease the boy's nerves. "So you don't have to call me 'mister' anymore."
On the ride home, Derek chatted with Ethan, watching as the boy's tension gradually eased. He asked how old he was, learning that Ethan was seven years old and attended the nearby elementary school.
When Ethan gave him his address, Derek recognized the area—it was a bit run down, rougher than where he lived. That started to make sense; this little boy, likely surrounded by tougher circumstances, was naturally curious about the gym and the strong men who trained there.
As Ethan's shyness faded, he began asking Derek questions of his own, his wide blue eyes full of newfound confidence.
Ethan fidgeted with the seatbelt, glancing up at Derek with curiosity. After a moment of silence, he blurted out, "What do you do for work, mister?"
Derek chuckled. "I'm a construction worker."
Ethan's eyes widened. "Like, you build stuff? Like houses and buildings?"
"Yep, exactly. We build all sorts of things."
"Whoa… that's cool. Is it really hard?"
"It can be," Derek replied with a smile, "but you get used to it."
The boy thought for a second, then asked, "Did you always do that? Or did you want to do something else when you were little?"
"Nah, I didn't always do this. When I was your age, I didn't know what I wanted to do."
"Where did you live when you were little?" Ethan asked, his curiosity growing.
"I grew up in Nebraska," Derek said.
"Where's that?" Ethan asked, scrunching his nose in confusion.
"It's far from here. A lot of farms, wide open spaces—really different from this place."
"Did you like it there?" Ethan asked, tilting his head.
"I did. It's quiet, and you get to see a lot of stars at night," Derek said.
Ethan's face lit up. "Cool! I like looking at stars." Then he paused, looking back up at Derek. "Do you miss it?"
"Sometimes," Derek nodded, "but I like where I am now too."
Ethan nodded, deep in thought, before blurting out, "Do you think I could be strong like you one day?"
Derek smiled warmly. "If you work hard and stick with it, absolutely."
Ethan looked up at Derek and asked, "How old are you?"
"I'm twenty-nine," Derek replied.
Ethan glanced up at Derek and asked, "Were you always big and strong?"
Derek shook his head with a smile. "No, not at all. I used to be like you, looking up to the big guys at the local gym, wishing I could be like them. But I never actually lifted weights until I joined the Marines."
Ethan's eyebrows raised. "Really? You were like me?"
"Yep," Derek nodded. "I was just a regular kid. It wasn't until the Marines that I started lifting, and from there, I just stuck with it."
"The Marines?" Ethan asked, his voice full of awe. "Like soldiers?"
"Yeah, kind of like that," Derek said with a smile. "We trained hard, and lifting weights helped me stay in shape."
Ethan hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Were you ever in a war?"
Derek shook his head. "No wars for me, thankfully. But I did spend a lot of time stationed on a Navy ship during my years in the Marines. We were mostly overseas—spent a lot of time around Southeast Asia."
Ethan's eyes widened. "Whoa, you were on a real Navy ship? Like, with jets and everything?"
Derek chuckled, enjoying the boy's excitement. "Yeah, we had jets, helicopters, the whole deal. It was something else. Different world out there, but it taught me a lot—discipline, strength, how to push myself."
"Man, that's so cool!" Ethan grinned, clearly impressed. "I bet you've got some awesome stories!"
Derek smiled. "Maybe I'll tell you a few sometime."
Ethan thought for a moment. "Does working construction make you strong too?"
"It definitely helps," Derek said with a grin. "Carrying heavy stuff all day keeps me in shape."
"Wow," Ethan said, his awe growing even more.
Ethan couldn't help but steal glances at Derek as they drove. The man had short brown hair and deep brown eyes that seemed so serious, yet somehow kind. His strong jawline was covered in a shadow of stubble, like he hadn't shaved in a day or two. Thick eyebrows framed his face, and his long eyelashes softened his otherwise rugged, masculine features. To Ethan, Derek looked like the kind of guy who belonged in action movies—the kind that always saved the day.
But it wasn't just Derek's face that caught Ethan's attention. The man's body was incredible. He wore a string tank top that was cut so deep on the sides, it showed off nearly everything. His large, muscular chest was covered in dark hair, and Ethan could see how strong he really was, with every muscle in his chest bulging beneath his skin. His biceps were huge, veins popping out as if they were trying to escape, and Ethan couldn't stop staring at how powerful they looked.
As they continued driving, Ethan's eyes wandered down to Derek's legs. They were thick, hairy, and built like tree trunks. His calves were especially impressive—huge and solid, like they could carry him anywhere with ease. Ethan had never seen anyone like this in real life before. He sat there in awe, barely able to believe that someone could be this strong and still seem so nice.
Ethan seemed completely unaware that they weren't taking the usual route to his house. Lost in the moment, he didn't notice that Derek was deliberately driving a longer, roundabout way just to spend more time with him.
Derek found himself enjoying their conversation, but it was Ethan's excitement and curiosity that truly captivated him. The boy's lack of a filter allowed him to ask whatever questions came to mind, creating a refreshing and honest dialogue.
Though Ethan had been shy at first, the reassurance of being in a friendly environment helped him open up like a book. With each passing moment, he shared more of his thoughts and dreams, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as he talked about everything from superheroes to his aspirations of becoming strong like Derek.
When they finally arrived at Ethan's address, Derek surveyed the neighborhood, finding it worse than he'd anticipated. Ethan's house was small and shack-like, clearly in disrepair. Though he wasn't judging the boy, it saddened Derek to see someone with such bright aspirations growing up in an environment that could stifle those dreams in an instant.
The contrast between Ethan's enthusiasm and the rundown surroundings struck Derek deeply. It made him more determined to encourage the boy, hoping to inspire him to rise above his circumstances and pursue his goals, no matter where he came from.
As they parked in front of Ethan's house, Derek turned to the boy, concern in his eyes. "So, Ethan, what's it like at home?"
Ethan shrugged, his expression shifting slightly. "It's just me and my mom. She works a lot."
Derek nodded. "What does she do?"
"She has three jobs—one full-time and two part-time. She's always busy," Ethan said, looking down at his hands.
"That sounds tough for her," Derek said gently. "And what about your dad?"
Ethan's shoulders slumped a little. "He left when I was a baby. I don't really know him."
Derek's heart sank. "I'm sorry to hear that, buddy. It must be hard sometimes."
"Yeah, but Mom's really strong. She says we'll be okay," Ethan replied, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.
"I believe that," Derek said, determination swelling within him. "You know, with a mom like that, you've got a good support system. And I'm here if you ever need someone to talk to or help you out."
Ethan looked up, his blue eyes brightening. "Really? You'd do that for me?"
"Absolutely. I want to help you achieve your dreams," Derek said earnestly. "No matter what it takes."
As they sat in the parked Jeep, Derek turned to Ethan with a serious but encouraging tone. "Hey, I want to give you my phone number."
Ethan's eyes widened. "Really? Why?"
"Because I want you to know you can reach out to me anytime. I'm here to help you," Derek replied, pulling out his phone and typing in his number. "But I also want to set you up for success, starting tomorrow."
Ethan leaned in, his interest piqued. "What do you mean?"
"I want you to start every morning with fifty push-ups," Derek said. "But I know you won't be able to do all fifty right away, so build up to it. Start with what you can manage."
Ethan nodded eagerly. "Okay, I can do that!"
"And then do one hundred sit-ups after your push-ups," Derek continued, watching the boy's determination grow.
"Wow, that's a lot," Ethan said, eyes wide but excited.
"Yeah, but you can do it. Just take it step by step. And make sure your bed is made every morning before school. It sets the tone for your day."
"Got it! Make my bed," Ethan repeated.
"Also, you need to eat a good breakfast—nothing sugary," Derek instructed. "And cut out sodas. Drink a lot of water instead."
Ethan listened intently, nodding with each point. "I'll do it! I promise!"
"Good," Derek smiled, feeling proud of the boy's enthusiasm. "I believe in you, Ethan. Let's make this happen together."
Ethan's eyes sparkled with excitement, but a hint of uncertainty crept in. "I really want to do this, Derek! I want to be strong like you, but… what if I can't do fifty push-ups?"
Derek nodded understandingly. "That's exactly why I don't expect you to do them all right away. You have to do what you can and build up to it."
Ethan bit his lip, still feeling a mix of joy and worry. "What if I give up?"
"Then you just try again," Derek said, his voice steady. "Remember, nobody starts out perfect. It's all about progress, not perfection. Just focus on doing your best each day."
Ethan nodded slowly, his determination beginning to outweigh his fears. "Okay. I'll do my best, I promise. I really want to be like you."
"That's the spirit," Derek said, smiling. "And I'll be here to help you every step of the way. Just believe in yourself, and you'll surprise yourself with what you can achieve."
Ethan turned to Derek, his face lighting up with gratitude. "Thank you again for being so nice and giving me a ride home. I promise I'll do my best and try not to give up!"
With that, he jumped out of Derek's Jeep, his excitement palpable. He ran to his front door, quickly unlocking and opening it. Just before stepping inside, he turned back and waved at Derek.
Derek waved back, a proud smile on his face as he watched the boy. Ethan's energy was infectious, and he felt hopeful about the path ahead. As he drove away in his big Jeep, he glanced in the rearview mirror to see Ethan still waving, a small figure filled with big dreams.
When Derek arrived home, he headed straight for the shower, spending twenty minutes scrubbing his body and savoring the warm water that washed over his sore muscles. The steam enveloped him, easing the tension from a long day.
Once he finished, he wrapped a towel around his thin waist and made his way to the kitchen to prepare dinner. For the next hour, he chopped vegetables, seasoned chicken, and rinsed rice, focusing on each task as he moved efficiently through his routine.
With dinner ready, he carried the plates to the living room, settling onto the sofa to eat while watching the news. Unfortunately, the headlines were filled with negativity, and he found himself tuning out the grim reports, his thoughts drifting back to Ethan.
Derek couldn't shake the boy from his mind. There was something about Ethan's infectious excitement that resonated with him, but it was more than that—an unarticulated connection that stirred a protective instinct within him. He felt a growing determination to support the boy and help him chase his dreams, even if he didn't fully understand why.
After finishing his meal, Derek cleaned his dishes and set them out to dry. He then returned to the living room, turned on his PlayStation, and fired up Call of Duty.
Almost immediately, several of his buddies from the Marines sent him a request to join their party, which he eagerly accepted. The silence in his headphones was quickly replaced by a cacophony of testosterone-filled banter and vulgarity.
"Goddamn, I miss those days," he thought, a smile creeping across his face as memories of their rowdy times flooded back. Soon, he jumped into the conversation, which was currently focused on one of his buddies' ongoing troubles with his girlfriend.
"Dude, just dump the bitch!" Derek shouted, eliciting a chorus of laughter from the group. "This has been going on for a year now! You have needs, and she refuses to fulfill them. Move on and find someone else or get a side piece that will!"
More laughter erupted, and the camaraderie felt comforting. Yet even amid the playful chaos, Derek couldn't shake the thought of Ethan.
Soon, they hopped into a Resurgence match, and the banter and vulgarity escalated as they played. Derek was the best of the bunch; his skills were unmatched. While his three other buddies held their own, Derek had honed his abilities from years of gaming as a kid, and after picking it back up post-Marine Corps, he slipped back into it effortlessly.
As the match neared its conclusion, they found themselves in the top three. With a burst of teamwork, they squad-wiped another team, catapulting them into the top two. The hunt was on, and Derek's determination surged—he was hell-bent on securing the win.
But as he focused on the game, his mind flickered back to Ethan. He wished the boy were there beside him, soaking in the banter—albeit not child-friendly—and watching him play. The thought of Ethan joining in, laughing and competing alongside him, brought a warmth to his chest that momentarily distracted him from the intensity of the match.
The distraction was just enough for him to get knocked. A chorus of voices erupted in his headset—"What the hell, Derek!" and "How did you not see him?"—as his buddies rallied around him. Two of them went after the culprit while another revived him, and soon he was back in the game, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and refocus on the win.
Less than a minute